Ripples: Through a mentor's eyes
by GodricsRanger
Summary: The 25th Hunger Games were supposed to be the best yet. Instead, they go all wrong. As a mentor, I probably could have done something about it, or maybe even stopped it. But I didn't.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note****: This is my first fanfiction, so I don't know how it will turn out. It's a little slow in the beginning, but it will get better once they enter the arena. But thanks anyway to my best friend and not-as-nitpicky-as-me editor. She just came out with a really good fanfiction- it's called The Hunger Games: Capital Children Edition. Also, thanks to KatnissMaxThaliaZoey from mockingjaynet. I based my mentor control room after the one in Mentors for lack of a better idea.**

**If you are someone who is just starting this story and want to jump right into the games, I warn that you will miss important stuff, but go to chapter 8 for the games.**

**I suggest that you skip this if you already know about the quarter quells. It is really bad and not very necessary.**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the hunger games, no matter how much I wished that I did.**

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Prologue

"In honor of the 25th year of peace following the Dark Days, we will have a Quarter quell. On each 25th year after this day, there will be another Quell. The Quarter Quell games will be a reminder of the horrors faced during the Dark Days." President Snow does not even look up to see the puzzled looks on the crowd's face.

Yeah, I think sourly. The horrors that your stupid Capital created. But to voice this thought to Hawken-my best friend- sitting next to me, has the possibility of being overheard. And that could mean an "accident" might hurt, or more likely, kill me or my father. If I died, there would be nobody left to mentor the tributes of district 4. I could at least be replaced by someone from the Capital that they think is "perfect for the job" but actually has absolutely no idea what they are doing. If my father was killed, though, somebody would have to pay.

"Stop fanaticizing!" I tell myself fiercely under my breath. All this accomplishes is a lot of weird glances from the people around me. Shut Up! I think, extremely annoyed at myself. Picturing my father being killed and talking to myself cannot be helping anything right now, so I refocus on the new President's speech.

"All the Quell rules for the next 500 years have been recorded in this box," Snow explains as he holds up a small, wooden box just big enough for a stack of envelopes, and allows a moment for the cameras to focus on it. Then he quickly flips open the lid and pulls out a blood red envelope with the number 25 clearly printed on the front.

"Each Quarter Quell has its own special rules to enhance the experience. I will now read this year's rules." He runs his deathly white index finger underneath the sealed flap, and pulls out an index card just as deeply red as its envelope.

"In reminder that the rebels chose to fight their Capital, the male and female tributes will be voted upon by the people of their district, and no volunteers will be allowed."

Instantly, chatter breaks out among the citizens all over the City Circle. But we have nothing but grim looks for each other. It is bad enough to only have a chance of being drawn as a tribute, but knowing that you are being forced by your own friends, it could ruin a kid. Of course there will be the occasional tribute voted in because they are thought to have a good chance of winning, mostly in the Career districts 1, 2, and my own, 4. I truly hope with all my heart that the tributes I will mentor are not broken, rejected kids with no will left to live.

The President finishes his speech with a word to the audience, but most of it doesn't hear him. As he disappears into his overly-large mansion, followed by half a dozen Peacekeepers who were standing nearby, the part of the crowd that didn't hear the end of the speech takes the cue from the part that did, and begins to swarm down side streets in all directions.

All of the victors were invited-not that we had a choice- to the Capital for front row seats on the small platform slightly off to the side of the marble steps of the President's mansion where Snow was speaking. The only way off the platform is down a single set of miniscule steps, and with so many people going by, we have to wait 15 minutes before the City Circle has cleared enough for the 23 of us to walk to the closely guarded train station a block away.

Even though I have many friends among the victors, none of them are from home, so I board the train to district 4 alone. With a sigh of grief that is not just about losing a friend, I remember Morrison, my old mentor partner who died just over a week ago. One day, he got th flu, just like every flu common in the district of chilly sea breezes. But suddenly, the next day, he died. Not even the best healers in the area could figure out what had happened. Whatever had killed him, though, I was still alone to face the Hunger Games.

I don't even bother to check out the train car I'm in before crashing down on a couch and sliding into the welcoming forgetfulness of sleep.


	2. Futile dreams or maybe not

**A/N-** So here's chapter 1. It is a little more interesting than the first chapter, which was more like a prologue, as my reviewer snowstormxd has pointed out. I changed it to be the prologue officially. HunterOfArtemis-youre awesome. ;) Thank you so much to anybody who reviews this! *hint hint*

I know that I used part of the original first book. That was completely intentional.

Chapter 1

The day of The Reaping is hot. Even with the cool sea-breeze, the 10,000 district 4 residents stand sweating in the square, the 12-18 year-olds in roped off areas. As a victor of the 21st games, I am entitled to a seat on the upraised stage behind the 2 glass balls that hold the names of all the eligible children. My seat is a little cooler because it is catching the breeze better and I am not pressed up against tons of other people. But it is still enough to make me miserable, the sweat running freely down my forehead and back.

First the mayor steps up and reads the standard history of Panem. Then he reads the list of past winners. Morrison and I, Arthaea, make up the entire list. I stand and give a half-hearted wave to the dull crowd and quickly resume sitting on the hard wooden chair, staring off into the distance, waiting for the actual reapings to start. And finally, after 10 minutes that seem like an hour, they do.

Kat Atkinson, the district 4 escort, reaches into the large glass ball that holds the male tribute's name. At first this strikes me as odd, because the 2 tributes have already been chosen. But when she instantly pulls out what I see is the only slip of paper in it, it makes more sense. The glass balls are only a formality.

"And the male tribute is…" she pauses for dramatic effect, but it is largely wasted on the crowd, which is mostly staring at the dirty gray cement ground of the square. Hurridly, she covers up her mistake by reading out the name.

"Rayth Jameson!"

I can physically see the sigh of relief from the crowd, and I wonder why until Rayth steps out of the group of 15 year-olds and climbs the steps to the stage. This 15 year old somehow is 6'1", extremely heavily built, and radiates a sense of power so strong that even I cringe when he first glances my way. And now I see- there is no way that this teenager was voted in for any other reason than the fact that he is so powerfully built. In a field full of misfits, this guy will cream everybody. Except maybe the other careers. But even then it would be the type of fight the Capital audiences love.

I pull my eyes off the newest tribute as boring introductions are made and gaze towards the girls' section. They are all standing huddled together in packs, whispering nervously to each other, except for one girl. She stands as far away from everyone else as possible, head turned away from the majority of people and the reaping platform. Curiously, I peer at her grimy brown shirt and blonde hair pulled back in a lopsided, messy ponytail held together by a piece of rope.

She seems a little familiar, and I might be able to recognize her if I could see her face. But I shrug my curiosity away and figure that it's just one of the kids from the community home, and maybe she's not very popular.

I do get to see her face, though, when Kat calls out the name "Ripple Kaylyn" and her head snaps to the front so fast I swear her head should have gone flying right off her bony shoulders. She has a soft, gentle face toughened slightly by weeks of ignorance that for a moment appears slightly confused, and I even sense the tiniest bit of fear, but very quickly both disappear and are replaced by a mask of hard determination.

She ducks under the ropes and stiffly strides over to the stage and up the steps. It is after I can finally see her face that I realize why she seemed so familiar, and I gasp. This girl-Ripple, I recall- is possibly the most hated girl in the district. Ever since the age of 11, things just went wrong around her. First there was the paint incident. That got pushed on to the fact that she was still relatively young. But when the fish net incident occurred just over a year later, people began to see the connection that it was the same person who wasn't quite as young anymore. And finally, a few months ago, at age 13, the lobster boat incident happened. It was the worst yet, and three boats ended going up in flames. She was too much of a disgrace for even her parents, so she was allowed to come and go from her parents' house as she pleased, but that was it. She had to provide her own money and food, and she also dropped out of school because it was torture. Now she lived off of scraps and spent her days down by the docks, sitting by the water as the people that passed ignored her completely.

It was a life that I resented, and hated her parents for it. The incidents had been no more than accidents gone badly wrong, and her parents had absolutely no reason to do what they did.

Suddenly, I feel sympathy for the kid, and realize that what she is feeling is probably right along the same lines as me. And all the determination is to show that she is not the awful piece of scum that her district has labeled her as. She will win the hunger games, and come back rich and famous, and what will the people say then?

But it is a futile dream, and to see that all you need to do is look at her tribute partner. The people have voted in one person who they want to get rid of, and another person to make sure that they don't come back. Plus, if Rayth wins and Ripple dies, they will still have upheld the honor of district 4. If they ever had any. All we ever were, and still are, is the Capitals lapdogs. We dutifully send tributes to their deaths, celebrate them as a holiday, and say nothing in complaint. It is time somebody changed this, and I have the feeling it will be Ripple. There is more to her than meets the eye, and if she lives to prove her dream, it will finally show the Capital that we are more than just a piece in their games.


	3. Author's note

So the very few amounts of votes are in, and they all are for skipping and having a chapter or 2 of strictly information. I have already finished a large chunk of it, so expect it within the next week. After that will be the important scenes from before the arena. Then the arena itself. It will be a little slower then before(not that it wasnt slow enough already) because of my RA fanfic.

Does anyone know how to make a collaborative new story?

Previously on 'Ripples'

A/N- I'm sorry about the delay, but to the few of you who are actually reading this, I'm pretty sure that what I'm about to say is more of your concern. This story is going on delay for however long it takes for me to actually write at least one chapter. It's been over a week and I've accomplished a whole two sentences on the next chapter. And it's not even like I don't know what will be in the next chapter. Until I finally get back on track with this story, I will be writing a ranger's apprentice fanfic. If you feel like checking that out, look for it in the next few weeks. The subject is still not completely decided.

There is one other option. If I were to skip the stuff up to the Arena and just have a chapter telling you the personalities, scores, talents, and such, and then start from the beginning of the actual games, would it be too confusing? Please review and tell me what you think. Wait or skip. It's totally your choice.

Ill tell you the results in a week or so.

GR


	4. Information page for up to the arena

**This is the page of purely information for those of you that would like to continue with this story. The *s are indicating that that is an important scene, and there will be a written up part for that in the next chapter. Please please please let me know if i forgot something important and ill try to get it up as fast as possible.**

* * *

Characters

Careers

1B-Cleadus

Muscular and agile. Showed only standard skills with sword and spear. 17 years old and score of 8. Somewhat smart and not too arrogant.

Mentor-Vincent. Stuck up and very strong.

1G-Sona

Pretty but deadly. Showed very good skill with bow+ arrows. Age 16 and score of 10. Got many sponsors. Extremely stuck up.

Mentor-Sapphire. Very much like Sona

2B- Unnamed

Almost completely ignored. Somewhat quiet but mean. Short temper. About 16 and score 8-10.

Mentor-Erak. Best friends with Vincent. Likes to insult people a lot, including his own tribute.

2G-Athena

Skilled with almost anything. Can climb very well. Got most sponsors of all. Hiding talent.* Age 17 and score of 11. Very cunning.

Mentor-need name and personality! If you can give a good idea, I will specially thank you and love you forever.

Other important characters

4B- Rayth Jameson

Powerful and independent. Asked to be a career, refused.* Age 15, score of 9. Very useful with nets, good with knife.

Mentor-Arthaea (1st person)

4G-Ripple Kaylyn

Kind but rejected by almost everyone for stature and looks. Age 13 and score of 7. Good survival skills.

Mentor- Arthaea (1st person)

7G-Piper

Possible alliance with Ripple, brought together by mentors.* Not much known.

All other tributes

Arthaea was right- they are all rejected children, some showing more promise than others.

* * *

Chariot costumes-sponsors

There were no outstanding costumes or stylists. Ripple and Rayth were in some stupid fisherman's getup. Only Sona and Athena were paid any attention to at all, because of their beauty. It got them both some sponsors.

* * *

Interviews

The interviews were the first step to frustrating the Capital. * ( I will write up the interviews and explain this more in the next chapter)

* * *

So im in a really weird mood right now, mostly really happy because I was thanked for the first time in someone elses story that is not one of my friends from my other life( because I actually have one). And I have just dubbed word a very frustrating program. It keeps complaining at me because practically this entire chapter was 'sentence fragment consider revising'.

**Sorry about the pointless rambling, but my head is not really attached right now. I have a strange suspicion that it is on a cruise off the coast of South America right now.**


	5. Important moments

**You probably noticed that I changed the title. It was because I wanted to represent the fact that it is from Arthaea's POV more. **

**Remember- reviews are the awesomest, amazingest thing in the universe! If you want to make me that happy, review! If you don't, review anyway.**

* * *

"Good luck," I tell Rayth and Ripple as they get into the elevator and descend to the gym below for their last day of training before the private sessions with the game-makers. When neither of them responds or even looks at me before the elevator door closes, I sigh and press the button for the very same elevator they just left in.

"It's so great to have such enthusiastic mentees this year," I mutter to myself as the elevator reappears. I step in, press my finger into the wall as it takes a fingerprint scan, and wonder yet again why the mentor's observing room is kept such a secret. All we do is watch the goings-on in the training gym and see who our tributes are teaming up with and use that knowledge to make alliances through the other mentors. So why are we instructed not to tell our mentees about it on penalty of them dying a horrible death in the arena? All that accomplishes is some mentors taking advantage of that for tributes they hate and telling them about it. I shake my head as I remember the poor kid last year who died in the arena from a bite from a rabid bear because his mentor told him about the observation room.

The elevator arrives at the observation room and I step out into the main room. It has a large table with several different dishes laid out against one wall and two dozen squishy armchairs in a giant circle. On a stand sticking out of the arm of each armchair is a portable screen that can be controlled by the person sitting there. I walk halfway across the room to an available seat next to Hawken, his mentor partner Talia on his other side.

"Hey Hawken. Anything interesting so far?" I ask him as I turn on my screen with a single touch.

"Nope. Nothing at all," he replies, not looking away from his screen.

I glance at the image of the tributes that popped up. It's the normal bore for the last day, everyone already having figured out alliances and given up on showing off their talents or lack thereof.

The one puzzling thing so far is that Athena, the district 2 female career, is hiding her talents. Not many people believe this other than me, but she seems like a girl of skill to me and from what I've seen she has no serious talent so far. Sure there's the standard skill with sword, spear and knives, but it's just not up to snuff with the others. That means she has spent most of her time on something else, and I have a feeling we will find out if that is true when the scores come out. Until then, she's just as much as mystery as ever.

"Wait a minute. Arthaea, zoom in on Rayth. Something's happening"

I quickly turn the camera towards Rayth and the kids around him and switch the sound on.

"…would like you to join us as a career."

"What?" I exclaim. "District 4 tributes have never been careers. That's always been only 1 and 2.

"Shush!" Hawken hushes. "I want to hear his response."

We both return our eyes to the screens, and notice that a lot of other mentors have done so also, hearing our commotion and some of what was going on.

I am very surprised when I notice that Rayth's expression hasn't even changed. He hesitates for a minute, then solemnly says "No." in a deep voice and walks away.

A stunned silence fills the room, and I can see it mirrored in the career's faces. They have absolutely no idea why he refused them. He is muscular and will get a good score, and most of all gives off an aura of power so strong that there is no way that he will not make it into the final bunch of tributes. Those are the unspoken requirements to be a career, so why did he refuse?

Erak, the district 2 male mentor, breaks the silence. "Well that was interesting. The idiot didn't join the other idiots. I thought it was 'birds of a feather flock together'."

"Oh, shut up Erak."

That's Martina, the district 12 mentor and the only victor to ever come from her district. I have a feeling she will be the only victor from 12 for a long time. She is probably the only tribute from 12 that has ever showed some promise and this year is no different. Two pitiful kids that have almost no skill in anything are her mentees.

I feel bad for her, coming every year ever since the 11th hunger games when she won at age 16. Fourteen years and 28 tributes have passed, all of which she has tried her hardest to turn into victors but none have been successful. Now she is by far the oldest of us, and everyone but the career mentors considers her the leader. Sometimes the careers even listen to her, and today is one of those days.

Erak shuts up and we all return to watching the screen. The brief action is over though and the careers have wandered off to the stations again, and once again we are left to a boring day of watching our tributes train for their fight to the death.

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**I know, making excuses for not writing is a really lame way to go, but my life actually has been really hectic the last month. Add writer's block and then you've got an entire month of no writing. So if you care (you probably don't) here's the list.**

**School, homework, MCAS prep, Open Table, Hebrew School, school musical, band, private lessons, garden club, tennis, volunteering at theater for elementary school kids, guinea pig cages that need to be cleaned, other stories and writer's block.**

**Whew. Got that out of my system.**


	6. Interviews

**Hi again! Sorry this took so horribly long, but I have periods of time in the summer where I seem to just disappear from existence for a while. (Yay camp!) School starts soon, and my schedule for this year is ****packed.**** I don't know how often I'll be able to update, probably about the same as during the summer, which is not nearly as often as I should. **

**I decided not to write about piper and ripple being brought together by their mentors, partly because I tried three times to write it but scrapped it every time, and partly because it doesn't really need to be explained. Mentors are friends, piper and ripple were introduced and became allies, they didn't want Kurthias because all he could do was run fast, and Rayth wants to work alone. Done. In the meantime, I wrote the last chapter and epilogue, but I know, that's not what I'm supposed to be doing. *shame***

**This is the last chapter before the arena! I'll try to post again within a week or so.**

* * *

As usual, the streets are packed. I have to weave my way through yelling multi-colored people and children to get to the box from where I will be watching the interviews. Once I'm there, the peacekeeper outside the door of the building lets me through and I enter the silent hallways. Down the hallway, up the stairs, and out another door into the box. I step outside and once again the roar if the crowd blasts my ears. Sheesh. The interviews haven't even started yet.

I plop down in a folding chair next to Hawken in the third row. He tiredly glances up, and instead of saying something, he just yawns.

"Tired?" I ask.

"No sleep last night." He replies. "Too busy worrying about my tributes and their skimpy chances at surviving. Then I get up to coach them for their interviews and we couldn't come up with a portrayal for either of them. They're just too…boring."

"Don't talk like that! They have just as good a chance as the rest, and they're not boring!"

"Arthaea, put it this way. Neither of them is very attractive, they don't have much skill in anything, they're not clever or cunning, and they have no sense of humor! Tell me, what does that leave?" He is starting to get heated up now, but when I look in his eyes, all I see is worry. He sees me looking and turns away to the interviews that have just started.

"If your tributes have no promise, then why did Ripple team up with Piper? Because she is smart and kind and she needed someone who she could put her trust in. That doesn't sound like a hopeless tribute to me." I leave out Kurthias and hope that Hawken doesn't bring him up specifically. He's a nice kid, but I'm not certain that I could argue for his potential.

"Maybe. But that still leaves Kurthias. Now even you have to admit, he's a hopeless case."

I curse in my head and then wonder for a second what I am going to say to that, but then I am saved by Ripple being called up to her interview.

She walks over to the chair and sits down next to Chris Flickerman **(1)**, the announcer.

"Hello, Ripple." He says. "How are you feeling tonight?"

"A little nervous," she replies modestly.

"You're going to do fine. So, do you have any good friends back home?"

I can see Ripple stiffen in her seat even from here, and I think Chris does too. He looks like he knows that he hit a difficult spot.

"No." Ripple sounds like she had to force the words from her mouth to answer the question, and I notice that at her side, her fist is clenching and unclenching rapidly.

Not wanting to dive deeper into such a touchy subject, Chris hurries on. "Do you think you have a good chance at winning the Games, Ripple?"

Once again, she answers very forcefully. "No."

Chris is mystified at her response. "Why ever not?"

Ripple pauses for a moment before answering, her eyes sweeping the confused-looking crowd. "I will admit, there are quite a few people in these games that I could beat in a fight if it came to it. But I also won't deny that there are a few people that I would not." At this, her eyes land on the careers from 1 and 2. "My only real skills are knowing how to survive and defend myself in a hostile environment, but-"

Chris interrupts her with a question. "Is that how you got your 7 in training?"

Ripple nods and then continues. "But it's a lot harder to survive when there are 23 other people out to kill you. I'm not getting my hopes up when I know my chances are almost zero. Especially since…" she pauses and takes a deep breath. "Especially since I'm very different than the others."

"In what way?"

"I'm not heartless, and I know how precious a life is." At this, the crowd just gets more confused. However, over the past week I have gotten to know my tributes a lot better than anyone else, and I fear that I know what is coming. I have seen this coming for a long time, in fact. I had just hoped against hope that I was wrong about her. It will only get her killed…

Ripple looks right at the cameras, her words echoing across all of Panem.

"I swear on my own life that I will not kill a single person. I refuse to take an innocent life."

* * *

The eerie silence that follows Ripple's statement seems to go on forever, finally being broken only by the sound of the buzzer, indicating that her three minutes are up. She stands up and walks back to her seat. Only when she is about to sit down again at the back of the stage does Chris recover.

"That was Ripple Kaylyn from district 4!" A few half-hearted claps ring throughout the square, and then quickly die away.

It is as if a switch has been turned on, because as soon as Chris calls up the next tribute, (Rayth) the crowd is applauding and going wild again.

During the entire interview, Rayth is totally himself and doesn't answer any questions with more than two words. Even his simple answers are great compared to the awkwardness of Ripple's interview. The crowd eats it right up and simply assumes that he is very aggressive, and naturally, that somehow explains it all to them.

However, after Rayth, things go downhill. The tributes are finally showing a piece of themselves and their personality, but they are mostly ruined kids that have already accepted their fates. The crowd starts getting restless after 7 more boring interviews, and by the time they are finished, I have a feeling the capital is beginning to see what a mistake it has made.

* * *

**(1) Ceaser Flickerman's father**

**Well that was officially the longest chapter I have ever written, and that still doesn't mean anything. My chapters are way too short.**

**The games begin next chapter! If you all review and bug me a lot, I'll get it up within a week or so. So review! (Just hit that button. You know you want to…)**


	7. The Mystery Deepens

**I didn't finish this (it was supposed to be the entire bloodbath), and I felt really bad about being late already, so I posted what I had and was forced to leave you on a huge cliffie. I promise promise promise that I will have the rest up by the end of the weekend. I owe it to you for my really lousy updating!**

* * *

"Ladies and Gentleman, let the 25th Hunger Games begin!"

60 seconds of tensely watching the anxious, determined, nervous, or scared tributes observe their surroundings, and then the gong rings out. The games have begun.

* * *

The morning before the games is always a depressing one. Many of the tributes know that it is quite possible that they won't live beyond a few hours, and many of them are correct. Ripple has realized that her stunt last night at the interviews may have cost her life. Even now, she is struggling with herself and her promise, wondering if she should break it and then steeling herself and swearing not to again.

Rayth, on the other hand, is almost as solemn as usual. Almost. I walk down the hallway to the room where he is awaiting his hovercraft to say good-bye. As I enter, he turns around, surprised. There is also a trace of emotion in his eyes, probably from before I enter. The first thing I think is that I dropped in on a private conversation with his stylist. What they would be talking about that actually interests Rayth enough to show emotion is beyond me, but then I notice an essential point. His stylist isn't there yet. He is in the room alone. And that is what makes me really look at him to see what in the world he could be feeling. I only barely manage to catch it before he turns his face to stone again, and I am quite shocked at what it is. Pain. One of the few emotions you never see in a teenager about to fight to death.

Just then, his purple stylist rushes in and starts fussing over him. Glad for an excuse to hide his face, he turns away from me. He doesn't even look up as I wish him good luck and close the sleek metal door behind me, only nodding that he heard.

I slowly walk down the blinding white corridor towards the hidden door through which is the mentor control room** (1)** and I can only wonder at Rayth. Why was he in pain? Why is he so hidden? Who is he? But I have just lost my last real chance to find out.

* * *

The control room is a nice place, comfy swivel chairs and leather couches facing the screens in every individual room, one for each district. The bank of screens and displays are, as usual, very high tech, and they include everything you could need. On the left is a screen always focused on the male tribute, on the right is a screen always showing the female tribute, and in the middle is a screen showing whatever is being broadcasted on television currently. Underneath the big screens are smaller ones sticking out of the wall. They show how much sponsor money each tribute has, a search bar bringing up the prices of gifts, and a small screen being fed by a camera that you can control. It can show anywhere in the arena from whatever angle you would like.

I order a glass of water from an Avox in the common room in the middle of the individual rooms, and plop down into a squishy chair. The games aren't due to start fir another hour, allowing the tributes to arrive and prepare themselves. In the meantime, I have nothing to do, so I decide to take a nap. Sleep is scarce during the games, especially for mentors who don't have a partner. There is no-one to take over the watch during the night, so you have to be able to wake up in the middle of the night and be available for action at any moment. I drift off to sleep, putting off the worry for another hour.

* * *

**(1) Yes, they control everything from the capital. The gamemakers too. There is no reason not to, and it's a lot easier for everyone.**


	8. Endless

**I tried to upload a map to my profile, but it didn't allow pictures. Instead, the map will be my avatar for a week or so. You have to go onto my profile to see it at its largest, it might not be actually showing for a day, and it still might not be that visible. I tried, okay? Effort is what counts.**

**Yay! The games have begun! Let the interesting stuff begin too.**

* * *

I wake up to the sound of a door slamming down the hall. Good thing too, because just as I wake up the television has just switched to the first glimpse of the arena. I leap off of the couch and into a swivel chair in front of the bank of screens. From above, the arena appears to be one huge circular island. In the very center is the cornucopia, which is surrounded by tall grasses. The grass is on average chest to shoulder height and the field is about ½ mile across. Once you are outside of the grass field, ½ of the outer circle is a savannah- short grass with the occasional tree or rock every 300 yards or so. In the middle of the savannah coastline, there is an indent in the island. The water there is fresh and drinkable, and, equal to the edge of the arena, is a small island. On the left side edge of the savannah are giant boulder piles and caves stretching around the edge until the end of the savannah. The other half of the island is half forest and half a plateau. The plateau has a giant rock face and more forest at the top. There only appears to be one path up and it is at the very back of the forest and hard to find. The day is sunny and warm, and it does not at all seem like a place about to be marked with the deaths of 23 young children.

Even as I finish taking a look at the arena, the tributes are already rising from the ground. One second there is nothing because the grass is so tall, then suddenly there is a person rising out of the yellowish ground. It is kind of creepy. The voice of Claudius Templesmith echoes off the rocky cliff face and blasts the tributes' ears.

"Ladies and Gentleman, let the 25th Huger Games begin!"

60 seconds of tensely watching the anxious, determined, nervous, or scared tributes observe their surroundings, and then the gong rings out. The games have begun.

* * *

Ripple is located in front of the cliff face, directly across from the island that is just barely visible from the cornucopia. I see her frown at how small the arena is when they cameras flick to the face of every individual tribute in turn for a few seconds. I guess that the interviews were enough to make the Capital realize that a large arena would have made the games drag on forever as all the tributes hid for the whole time. So instead, they chose a last minute arena about 4 miles across total that would have the tributes practically tripping over each other. Better to finish it fast.

Rayth is 7 tributes to Ripple's left, and he is eyeing a large net folded up at the front of the cornucopia, conveniently placed right next to a pile of knives. I can tell immediately that he is not leaving the bloodbath without them. His height will bring him an advantage in the tall grass too.

The gong rings out and, like I suspected, Rayth dives right in and sprints towards the cornucopia to get the knives and net. Ripple, on the other hand, drops flat and seems to disappear into the grass. Instantly she is invisible from the sides, only visible from the top like I am watching. Even then she is only a spot of dark green and black (the tribute clothing-just simple pants and a tee-shirt) slipping through the grass.

I look away from the screen on the right that is showing Ripple, and look to the main feed to see what is going on around the cornucopia. I turn on the sound and am blasted with the sounds of children yelling, screaming, and the loud clash of weapons. Rayth has grabbed his net and two knives and shoved them into his belt. He is fighting off the girl from 8, who managed to grab a knife also. Her fighting is poor, and she weakly attempts to stab at Rayth. He grabs her wrist with one hand, and yanks the knife out of her hand with the other. I half expect him to stab her with it, but at the last minute he flips it around and instead slams her in the temple with the butt of the knife, knocking her out cold. She slumps to the ground and disappears into the grass. There is no point in sparing her life, and I wonder why he did it. If she's unconscious, she will be dead instantly when the careers make the round to look at the bodies after the fighting is done. He might as well have killed her. I shake my head and wonder again at how little I know about him.

He takes the third knife he got from the girl in his hand and uses it to force his way through the mass of fighting kids, slashing but without actually touching anyone. After a minute he leaves the crowd and runs the ¼ mile to the edge of the grasses. He stops at the edge and surveys his options of where to go. He takes the most obvious option and disappears into the forest directly in front of him.

I take a glance at Ripple's screen and notice that she has made her way out of the grasses also. However, she chooses to go into the savannah where there is virtually no cover. Not the smartest idea, but there is nothing I can do about it. I do breathe a sigh of relief though when I realize that both my tributes are safe, at least for now. But that still may change.

* * *

Night comes upon the arena to see both tributes resting underneath trees on their own to watch the death recap. I know that there will be no shortage of deaths, for after Ripple and Rayth left it went very quickly. Kids began falling with cries of pain on every side, and only about half of them made it out, some running off into the savannah like ripple, but mostly into the forest. The career pack formed very quickly also, and they were mostly responsible for the deaths. I was right, and when they found with difficulty in the grass the girl from eight's unconscious body, they didn't even hesitate before slitting her throat with the swords, spears, and knives they found in the cornucopia.

The anthem plays, and the first face to appear is the girl from 5. Following are both from 6, the girl from 8, both from 9, the boy from 10, both from 11, and the girl from 12. 10 deaths in total. Not bad considering what I had expected, but still not lacking either. Ripple and Rayth both watch solemnly, then Rayth goes to sleep. Ripple however, hasn't gone through the small pack she escaped the cornucopia with. Inside there is not much, but it is all she really needs. A small blanket, a big bag of beef jerky, and a full canteen of water. She pulls out the blanket and packs the rest back into the bag. She rolls up in the blanket to keep out the chill night air, then goes to sleep.

* * *

A major perk of the control room is the tribute alarm. It is like an alarm clock, except it only goes off when your tribute is in danger or meets someone or something. That way, single mentors can go to sleep and be woken up when something interesting is happening. This will be my first year using it since Hawken died, so first I push the test button in the side to make sure it works. A shrill beeping noise explodes out of the device and I fall backwards out of my chair in surprise. I lie there on the floor for a moment, and then I burst out laughing. Maybe the day has taken its toll on me, or maybe I'm just going crazy, but either way I can't stop laughing until the mentors from 9 bang on my door and yell at me to 'Shut off the dang clock thing and shut up'. I swallow my next burst of laughter and stumble to my feet to turn it off. I press the test button again to turn off the alarm, and then activate it for the night. I flop onto the couch and realize I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast, but before I can order something I fall asleep.

All across the arena, the tributes are doing the same thing. Only 1 tribute stays awake, and that is the boy from 2, who is on watch for the careers. If only he knew that he was the only one. Then he could join everyone else. But instead, he stares out into the night of the forest, forever unaware of how truly pointless his life is turning out to be. Yet another pawn of the Capital In their seemingly endless games of death.


End file.
